Before the Moulin Rouge
by phantastic23
Summary: A short story of what happened before Christian came to the Moulin Rouge. He turns 18 and wants to move to Paris and become a writer, but his father won't have it. Tells how Christian learned of the MR, and everything he did in order to go. R&R! Enjoy
1. Happy Birthday

_London_

_April 1898 _

"Happy Birthday!" Christian's mother and sister shouted. His mother laid down a box in front of him. His father stood, hovering in over him, with his arms crossed. His sister, Lily, stood on his other side.

"Go on, open it." His mother chided. Christian looked eagerly at the box before him. He took the box off to reveal a typewriter! He glided his hands across the keys. His father just rolled his eyes.

"You're always scribbling away in those notebooks of yours; I thought it might be time to change along with the times." His mother said.

Lily kissed him on the cheek and wished him a happy birthday.

Christian loved writing. He wrote about what true Bohemians wrote about, according to his uncle; Freedom. Beauty. Truth, and above all things, Love.

"Enough, Enough." Father grumbled. "I'm going to the factory." Father walked out the door.

"You can put your typewriter on your new desk. I hung your diploma over it." Mother said.

Christian chuckled. His mother was always so cheerful, in a strange comparison to his grumpy father. It was a wonder they ever married, or fell in love. His parents were the worst representation of love. They seemed more like friends than lovers. Did love fade over time? Christian was sure his parents were once in love before. Christian sighed to himself. He couldn't wait to fall in love.

Christian trailed off into his room. His house was a bit big, but modest. For the most, his family made an adequate amount of money. They were far from poor. His mother's parents were very rich, and he and Lily attended the most prestigious schools. For education was the most important thing in the James' family, as his father always said.

But now that Christian was 18, he was free to do whatever he wanted. Unless his father had anything to do about it. Christian brushed his fingers over the keys. The typewriter was a truly wonderful gift. He had a feeling this typewriter would tell many stories during the course of his lifetime. He slowly began to type.

FREEDOM. BEAUTY. TRUTH. LOVE.

LOVE.

Christian thought a moment about love. Yes, he had never been in love. But he imagined it must be the most wonderful feeling in the world.

LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDOURED THING, LOVE LIFTS US UP WHERE WE BELONG. ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE.

Christian took out one of his old notebooks. It was filled with many poems all scribbled about. Christian had started writing poems when he was fifteen, at his boarding school near Southampton. Christian stared at the typewriter.

FREEDOM. BEAUTY. TRUTH. LOVE.


	2. A Bohemian Revolution

_August 1898_

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Did the damned clock ever stop? Christian sighed heavily. His father immediately put him to work all day every day at the factory, before Christian had a chance to think his life out! He hated every moment of it!

Bang! The door to his father's office slammed open. It was Uncle Lolol, Father's brother.

"My own brother!" Lolol grumbled. He took a drink from his flask. Christian walked out from his workplace and followed Lolol.

"Uncle, what's wrong?"

"Your damned father fired me, that's what!" He said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Uncle. Say, how about we have tea together? Would that be better?" Christian offered.

Lolol peered at Christian. He and his father were so unlike. His father was tall and gangly. Lolol was fat and short with a pudgy nose and red face.

"I love hearing your stories about other countries, Uncle."

For the past couple months, Christian had been visiting Lolol at teatime, and Lolol would tell him of all sorts of places. That's what Christian wanted to do. Travel, and write. Write in some other country, far from London, far from his parents, and this dreadful factory. Uncle shook his head no.

"I think it's just going to be me and my flask tonight." Lolol stumbled off.

Christian gave his goodbyes and looked out the window. It was sunset, time for him to go!

Christian exited the backdoor. He walked over to a patch of trees. His sister was waiting for him. He saw Lily kiss a young man goodbye. She quickly rushed over to Christian.

"Who is that?" Christian asked.

"That's John Dundas, father's friend's son."

"Oh."

"His parents are the wealthiest in Scotland."

"He's Scottish, then."  
"Yes." Lily replied. She was smiling. Christian studied her face.

"How long have you been seeing him?" This was the first Christian had heard of Mr. Dundas.

"Many weeks. You're just too dreamy to notice." Lily chuckled.

"Do you love him, then?" Christian asked.

Lily looked down on the ground.

"He is the best choice for a husband. Mum and Father would be proud. John and I are good friends."

Christian pulled Lily toward him. He and Lily were very close, he only wanted the best for her.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Love is the most precious gift in the world, do not waste it."

Lily chuckled and continued walking.

"Christian, you are so young. I'm nearly twenty. If there's anytime to get married, it's now. I know what I'm doing. You don't have to recite your poetry to change my mind."

Christian gave her a look of concern. Lily waved him off, nodding. She chuckled and took Christian's hand, and together they walked home.

It was another sunny afternoon. Christian decided to take his lunch break with Lolol. They sat at his table, drinking tea.

"Tell me about Monmarte, Uncle." Christian pleaded.

"Monmarte." Uncle said slowly. His face neared Christian, his pudgy nose close to him.

"You couldn't imagine what goes on quite openly everyday. Bohemians, singers, writers, run wild in the streets reciting their poetry, singing their songs, trying to change the world with their 'Bohemian Revolution' Street whores are all around, trying to sell their fragile bodies. But the real courtesans are in the Moulin Rouge. The Moulin Rouge has parties that never end, lights that never stop shining, dancers that never stop dancing, the windmill never stops turning. The Moulin Rouge is endless."

Christian was in complete awe, hanging on every single word Lolol said. Could this be the place for him?


	3. Thanksgiving

_November 1898_

_Thanksgiving_

TODAY WAS A…OVERWROUGHT DAY.

Christian typed that night. It had been a long day, and a very tense one.

IT WAS THANKSGIVING. MOTHER'S PARENTS CAME. IT'S ALWAYS TENSE WHEN THEY COME. MOTHER FEELS THEY ARE ALWAYS JUDGING US. WHICH THEY ARE. THEY INSPECT EVERY LITTLE THING, AND READ INTO EVERY WORD WE SAY. THEY ARE CRAZY, MOTHER SAYS.

Christian sat back, and thought about the day.

They all sat and the long dining table. Mother had been cooking the feast for about three hours, always trying to impress them. It was deadly quiet, like a graveyard. The only sound was the clanging of forks, and chomping of food between their teeth.

"So..Christian graduated last September." Mother said happily, trying to make conversation.

Grandmother nodded stiffly.

"Do you have any plans for this year?" Grandfather asked.

"I would…like to travel." Christian said. He bravely waited for the reaction. He had never told anyone this.

Father dropped his fork loudly. He looked at Christian angrily, his eyes bulging. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone stared at each other, his family all surprised, even Lily.

"Oh." Grandfather said after several minutes.

"Actually, Christian has been working hard at my factory. Full time. Soon may be time for a promotion." Father said, saving the situation.

Christian secretly rolled his eyes.

"What about Lily?" Grandmother asked.

"Lily has been seeing John Dundas. His parents are the wealthiest of Scotland. Perhaps you've heard of them?" Mother said cheerfully.

"Yes, they are a respectable family. That's wonderful."

Lily smiled.

I'M NOT GOING TO STAND FOR THIS. I AM GOING TO DO WHAT I WANT TO. I'M GOING TO TRAVEL. I'M GOING TO WRITE. I CAN'T BE STUCK IN MY FATHER'S FACTORY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. I DON'T CARE WHAT GRANDMOTHER, FATHER, MOTHER, OR ANYONE THINKS. I'M GOING TO BE A BOHEMIAN….

IF ONLY I COULD WORK UP THE STRENGTH TO ACTUALLY GO.


	4. Happy New Year

_January 1899_

"Happy New Year." Christian's head snapped up from sleeping. It was Eddie, one of his coworkers. Last night his parents had a party with a lot of wealthy people, coworkers, and assorted friends. Christian had spent most of the time in his room typing, and planning his trip. He was determined to travel soon. He had been up all night, and was exhausted that day.

"You too, Eddie."

"Time for you to go, Mr. James." Eddie said to Christian. He handed Christian a paper. Christian tipped his hat and ran out of the factory. Another long day was finally over! He ran to go pick up Lily by the bridge.

Christian ran over to the bridge. Lily stood on the bridge with John Dundas. John kissed Lily, and Lily ran up to Christian, and handed him his books.

For weeks Christian had been pouring over maps, reading books, and saving money from the factory. He had a plan. He would go to Paris. He would go to Monmarte and write about Freedom Beauty Truth and Love. He had his plan all written out. He would go on the ferry and cross the English Channel and then board a train to Monmarte, his new life. He had yet to reveal this to any of his family, but he would have to tell Lily first.

Christian turned to Lily. He would surely miss her. They were very close. But, Christian knew this is what he was born to do.


End file.
